


Spirit

by jenna_thorn



Category: The Unusuals
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-23 10:15:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/621006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenna_thorn/pseuds/jenna_thorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Second, this is dispatch. We’ve got a public indecency call on Third at Wilkins. Jesus is mooning Santa. Happy Hanukkah, guys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spirit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sirona](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirona/gifts).



_Second, this is dispatch. We’ve got a public indecency call on Third at Wilkins. Jesus is mooning Santa. Happy Hanukkah, guys._

Banks waved the guy into the room and Delahoy knew he was stomping, but stomped anyway. “You have no concept of letting others live their lives, do you?”

“I’m exposing the secular lies of ---“

“Pants up!” Delahoy jerked away as the rope around the freak’s waist gave way again. “Christ.”

“Yes, my son?” the guy asked, blinking with smarmy fake innocence and Banks snickered. 

Delahoy lost it. “You know full well what I mean. Jesus fuck!”

“Invoking My name wo…”

“Pull your god damned pants up.”

Banks waved to the side, muttering, “It’s Tourette’s, really. It’s a medical thing.”

Fake Jesus leaned toward him theatrically. “I can heal you, my ---“

“Touch me and I’ll shoot you. Real blood, not wine.” Delahoy turned toward his desk and let Banks drag the freak toward the cell at the edge of the room.

“What?” Delahoy said, maybe, yeah, a little shrill, at Shraeger. “You can’t tell me that doesn’t piss you off.”

She shrugged and sat down and Walsh, smart man that he was, was keeping his head down, but Cole was watching Banks lock the cage. 

“He makes me sad,” Cole said, his voice quietly serious. “Not angry.”

Banks leaned back toward the guy, and said in a stage whisper, “Oh, now you’re screwed. Beaumont’s gonna be pissed.”

Beaumont entered in time to catch just the last part. “Why am I gonna be pissed?”

“Because your mother still makes oyster stuffing every year,” Walsh said, then yelped and glared at Shraeger.

Delahoy leaned against Cole’s desk. “Cole is sad. Cole is sad about _Christmas_.” Cole, behind him, straightened and was no doubt making faces, but he waved one hand behind him to distract him as he continued, “And that guy is who made him sad.” 

Shraeger, Walsh, even Banks each raised one hand to point accusingly at the cage. Cole let his head thump to his desk. Beaumont walked to the cage. Delahoy couldn’t hear what she said, but then again, he didn’t really need to. 

This almost made up for the angel he kept half-seeing out of the corner of his eye.


End file.
